Valentine's With a Dork
by GeniusOfStupidness
Summary: It's Valentine's Day, and Romania can't help but feel jealous of all those who had a date, since she was single. But what happens when Greece shows up and offers her a bouquet of flowers, much to Turkey's annoyance, who was about to go first?


_Ha, Valentine's Day. What a joke, seriously! _Romania thought as she was sitting on a bench in one of the pretty parks in Bucharest. Her white, simple dress was smoothly covering her body, accentuating her curves without any hidden meaning, really. Chin in her palm, hands on her knees, she let out a long, unhappy sigh, as her eyes followed the couples walking past her and whispering sweet and occasional _disturbing_ things. Oh how she sometimes _wished_ so bad that she couldn't understand Romanian – because those people were just driving her… crazy. _Jealous-crazy_. It wasn't even a _Romanian_ holiday, for God's sake! Why were they so _keen_ on showing their love to everyone? Yet again, she was probably thinking that because she was too selfish to appreciate the happiness of others. True, she was aware, which was probably _why_ she didn't exactly get any flowers yet. No sweet words, no man (or woman, although she would've felt a bit awkward if that was the case) to share her love with. Nope, because she was _single_ on _Valentine's day_.

As she was lost in her trace of thoughts, the sudden touch against her back had startled her. She immediately turned around – only to find herself face-to-face with none other than Heracles Karpusi, also known as Greece, literally _shoving_ a bouquet of flowers into her nose. He wasn't exactly to blame, though. He _was_, half-asleep, after all.

He managed to mumble something in Greek, which she recognized as "Hello", before he sat next to her. Flowers in her arms, she felt quite flattered. Sure, she knew Heracles got a thing for her – he literally _couldn't_ keep his hands off during any world meeting when they happened to sit next to each-other, and she was embarrassed about it. Sure, he was an astonishingly handsome man, and he was smart and… philosophical too. Had a great country, wonderful culture and whatnot. But Cristina Daciana, as Romania was also known, simply couldn't see him as anything more than a brother. Although, at the moment, that didn't stop her cheeks from turning obviously red and her voice practically getting stuck in her throat, causing her to stammer like an innocent high-school girl who just had the first boy in her life hitting on her when she was already 17. Well it was more or less true - just that she was 21, and Heracles was a 27 years old boy.

Probably it was not romantic feelings which had gotten them into physical action before, but she wasn't so sure if that was the case now, with her stomach full of dancing butterflies that just wouldn't leave her alone. She _had_ gotten flowers on Valentine's, after all. Wanting to thank him, she turned her head slightly to see him, and just as she was about to test her Greek skills and say 'Thank You' in his natal language, she noticed he had already fallen asleep against her shoulder, with a stray cat – where the _hell_'d he get that from? – in his arms. She didn't know if that was just a total cock-block or if it was cute.

But much time couldn't be spent on that, since one _specific_ Turk decided to interfere. He'd been just next to the small fountain by their bench, and he had gotten so, so, _so_ annoyed with that little brat interfering with his business. This was _not_ the first time, and he _had_ argued with Heracles about this, but it was all _useless_ because that guy was just some stupid _dick_ who _loved_ to piss Sadiq Adnan off more than _anything_.

His grip on the bouquet of flowers he had bought for _someone_ – he was _too stubborn_ to admit it to himself that they were for a _specific_ Romanian woman – tightened considerably. And the little wimp even _dared_ falling asleep and _leaving her_ like that. Oh no, this was _surely_ not what the former Ottoman Empire would've put up with if he'd been in her place. He'd just kick that idiot's ass, curse at him in every possible language, and just go away, before throwing the flowers into the fountain. But _she_, oh, no, _she_ wouldn't do that. As much as a bitch he thought she was, he couldn't help the stupid, _annoying_ ( it had already started reminding Sadiq of Greece ) feeling in his chest as he thought, _'course she wouldn't. It's _her_ we're talkin' 'bout. _Her_, and not some other girl_ – but he interrupted his own thoughts. "'The hell? I was _not_ just thinkin' all that" he found himself speaking to himself. "Sadiq? What – _what_ are _you_ doing here?" _Oh, marvelous. Just what he needed._ But he had to face her now. Or else his pride – possibly the most important thing to him – would be stained forever. "Visitin'" he responded blankly, only to get an I-am-obviously-_not _-falling-for-that face. Oh, he hated when she did that.

"Visiting? As far as I know you, you'd rather be home surrounded by your seven wives who would offer you _anything_; food, drinks, _their bodies,_…" and she kept being a wanker, but was _not_ going to pay attention to all that. Was she just having some sort of jealousy crisis? If she'd just admit she wanted him, like _all _the other women did – and he really couldn't comprehend _how_ and _why_ she didn't - , it would've been so much easier. So _damn_ easy. But _no_, she _had_ to complicate things, because it was _Romania_ who these thoughts – _his_ thoughts – were all about.

Some young woman who had previously been under his rule and obeyed him, until she had _rudely_ shoved him off, declaring some pathetic independence or something, who was hopeless, occasionally annoying, messy, with a bad memory, lack of responsibility, _horrible_ at organizing her things and – oh, just so freaking beautiful. _What? No. No, she's not… beautiful, ha! Right, as if. _The Turk was still arguing with himself ( with his _ego_, more like it ) in his head, but Cristina hadn't noticed him until she had finished her monologue, and couldn't help but point something out. "Băi, those flowers" she pointed at them. Some connections were being born in her mind. He came to _visit_ her on _Valentine's day_ with a _boquet of flowers_? This was _suspicious_.

Sadiq, on the other hand, was _totally fine with it_. Yeah, sure, that's just what he kept telling to himself but he was _nervous_. Not as if he'd ever admit it. "What flowers?" he said quickly, glancing down at the _huge_ boquet in his arms."Ah, _this_" he grumbled, throwing the flowers somewhere randomly. "Well it's not as if... I was... going to give them to... you" he trailed off, followed by a nervous laugh. There, he said it! He was all good now. As self-centred as he was, he could barely notice the frown appearing on the woman's face for a split second. Romania felt rather stupid. "Yeah, sure, haha, what was I thinking?" she played along, scratching the back of her head. And then awakward silence.

_Were those for _her_, actually?_ Turkey thought, somehow feeling guilty for throwing them away. _So… they _weren't_ for me, after all!_ Cristina thought, somehow feeling disappointed. "As if I need his stupid flowers!" she grumbled, simultaneously with Sadiq's "As if I'd give _her_ any flowers!"


End file.
